


The College Student Stereotype

by thebriesknees



Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, Marvel, Winter Soldier - Fandom
Genre: Bucky Barnes - Freeform, F/M, James Barnes - Freeform, James Buchanan Barnes - Freeform, Marvel - Freeform, winter soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 23:52:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14319822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebriesknees/pseuds/thebriesknees
Summary: Finals week is hell. You'll need all the help you can get.





	The College Student Stereotype

Every college student stereotype you’ve ever heard is true. Every one of them. Some students come to lectures still in pajamas, some students live off a strict diet of Ramen and energy drinks, and some students have a breakdown in the library at 2 am. You were the latter stereotype.

Exam week had the whole campus scrambling to the library and any building that sold caffeine products. Even at 2 am, students were still going strong. Never underestimate a college student the day before a test; they are an unstoppable force.

Except for you.

It seemed like everyone around you was getting stuff done and understanding their material. Some students even left the library  _before_  midnight. That was no easy feat. You swore you’ve been staring at the same page for nearly three hours, absorbing nothing. You and the big ass philosophy textbook in front of you were getting nowhere. You felt hopeless.

Before you knew it, tears began to flow. You tried to hide them at first, wiping away under your eyes, but as the weight of the situation settled in, you gave up. 

If you failed this exam, you will have to take the class again, and you did not have the money for that right now. Pushing your dignity aside, you sniffed loudly, laid your head down on your arms, and cried. 

You were absolutely screwed. 

“Hey.” A soft yet strong voice sounded above you.  _It was a guy,_  you thought to yourself,  _great_. You hoped you didn’t leave snot under your nose as you lifted your head to look up.

James Barnes was the textbook definition of a frat guy - on the outside, that is. Even at 2 am he was dressed to impress. He had on an obnoxious colored polo that was still tucked into his khaki shorts, coffee in hand, shoulder length hair pulled back with a hair tie. He also donned those ugly boating shoes that you were positive they gave out to guys after they joined a fraternity. 

However, you’ve heard from classmates and friends alike that he was the exact opposite of whatever stereotype frat guys carried with them like baggage. You’ve never met him properly before, though, and you definitely couldn’t remember which fraternity he was in (even though you’re pretty sure you’ve stopped by his frat’s event table before for a free t-shirt when you didn’t feel like doing laundry that week.)

“Hi,” you said, sitting up in your chair, “I’m sorry if I was being too loud-” you began to apologize but James was quick to interrupt. “You weren’t. Don’t worry.” He gave you a reassuring smile. 

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you wipe your eyes and notice your mascara has rubbed off onto your sleeve.  _Great_. You must have looked horrified at this discovery because James was quick to say something. “Don’t worry, you look great.” He chuckled softly, “You’ve got a good smokey eye going. It works.” If that was his attempt to make you smile, it worked, but only a little bit.

“I’m James, by the way.” He smiled. He had a really nice smile.

“(Y/N).”

Without invitation, James pulls out the seat across from you and sits down. The coffee that was in his hand was now being pushed towards you. “You looked like you could use a little pick me up.”

“Wow… thank you.” You said, genuinely thankful.

“Happy to help.” James smiled and leaned forward on his forearms. “What are you studying for?” He was looking upside-down at your textbook. Strands of his dark hair fell forward and you couldn’t help but admire how they framed his face nicely.

“Philosophy.” Your answer made him groan. “That class is the worst. Who do you have? Dr. West?” He groaned again when you nodded. 

“I had him last semester. He’s rough, isn’t he?” This time it was your turn to groan. “I know, right? He talks too fast, he rarely answers emails, and his tests cover things we were never lectured on!” You rolled your eyes, exasperated. This made James laugh. He had a very attractive laugh. It was a deep, hearty laugh that moved his shoulders up and down. You wanted to hear it again.

“One good thing about Dr. West,” he taps your textbook with his index finger, “his final exam is basically the same every year.” He sat back a bit in his chair and looked at you, a lazy smile on his lips. “I could help you if you want?” 

First, he buys you coffee, then he offers to help you study for a life or death exam? How could you decline an offer like that? 

“I wouldn’t mind that at all.” You answered with relief. “Thank you so much.” James shook his head. “It’s not a problem at all. I’m happy to help, trust me.”

And you did. He moved his chair to sit next to you and helped you study for this goddamn nightmare of an exam. He reviewed with you, quizzed you, and even made a practice exam. By 7 o’clock that same morning, you knew all the material like the back of your hand. You couldn’t thank James enough. He helped you through all the frustration and groans and even some tears, and he didn’t yawn once. He was patient with you, sometimes having to explain a concept more than three times. How could you even repay him? 

You and James walked out of the library together, exhausted but smiling. “I think you’re all set, (Y/N). Go get a few hours rest and knock this exam out of the park!” How he managed to keep his energy all this time is beyond you, but it was infectious.

“You know it!” You grinned, turning towards him once you reached the bottom of the library steps. “Let me buy you lunch sometime? To properly thank you and all.” It wasn’t nearly enough of a thank you to repay him for saving your ass, but it was all you had to offer. 

James grinned in response, showing off all of his perfect teeth. “Sounds like a date to me.” 

The two of you swapped numbers before parting ways. He entered his name in your phone as “Bucky.” When you questioned him about it, he gave you that brilliant smile of his and replied, “That’s what my friends call me.”  _Friends._  You liked that.

A week later, sitting at the desk in your dorm, you checked to see if your final grades were posted and nearly had a heart attack. Not only had you passed the class, you also got a big, fat 100% on the final. 

The thought that crossed your mind immediately after finding out the good news was to call Bucky. He answered on the first ring.

“(Y/N)! What’s the news? Break it to me gently.” He greeted with caution, but you could practically hear his smile on the other end. 

“Straight 100, baby! We did it!” You replied, trying not to squeal out of excitement. “Nuh uh,  _you_  did it. You took that exam, you earned that grade by yourself.” Before you could protest about him being so humble, he spoke again. “I’m proud of you, (Y/N), I really am.” He sounded genuinely happy for you, which made your heart beat a little faster than it already was. 

“Now,” he was grinning, you could tell, “how about that lunch?”


End file.
